


Human contact

by Acciopencil



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 01:04:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7145741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acciopencil/pseuds/Acciopencil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fluff inspired by a prompt on tumblr: Why aren't we hugging</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human contact

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this story.  
> ©Arthur Conan Doyle and BBC

"Why aren't we hugging?"

John blinks at the computer screen in front of him.

The open document grazed with a new adventure from the man currently slouching on the couch a mere meter away from him. It is a simple question really, but the answer it require is not.

John then sighs and saves the document, before closing the lid of the laptop all together.

"What brought this on?" John asks, eyeing the detective from where he was sitting.

It is not, John reflects, the question that burns on his tongue, eager to be let loose at the other, but John bites it back.

Sherlock takes his time answering.

"We're friends" He says, the words sounding careful and selected, although still awfully hesitant.

"Yea" John says, and confirms what sounds like an unspoken question.

"Well, do friends not usually do that kind of thing? Physical contact is important for the normal, boring kind of people" John can feel his lip twitch and coughs to mask a laugh.

"But you want.. To have physical contact? Like the boring people?" Sherlock is yet again silent.

John stands up and stretches his body, thus buying himself a little time. Time he uses to observe Sherlock. He is lying flatly on the couch. One foot resting flatly on the floor, whilst the other is dangling from the end of the couch.

His hands are neatly folded on his chest and his eyes are steadily closed. John walks over to the couch and then he hesitates. He knows Sherlock is observing every movement he makes and every sound he utters. Then he carefully places a knee between Sherlock’s legs and then his hands on either side of his body. Sherlock is lying very still.

"Was this what you had in mind?" John lets his entire body align with Sherlock’s, and his arms crawl under his back and embracing him. Sherlock’s breathing is steady and consistent. A little too consistent for it to be all that natural.

"Funny thing about the human body is that it reacts however it pleases" John presses his chest to Sherlock’s. He can feel the heartbeat beating rapidly within, still the shell remains unmoving.

John is very aware on the fact that this right now was the closets his ever been to Sherlock. Perhaps ever will be. And just as the thought occurs to him, a spur of recklessness infiltrates his mind and body without his consent. He drops his head onto Sherlock’s shoulder, angling his head so his nose presses into his neck and closes his eyes.

He takes in a deep breath, breathing in Sherlock’s scent and it all feels overwhelmingly normal that it makes him shudder. His mouth, so very close to the skin in front of him, almost surges for the warmth on its own accord. And then John is kissing Sherlock’s neck. Sweet ever so careful soft kisses, presses in all the places as far as he can reach.

Then, the most terrific thing that could ever happen happens.

Sherlock moans! It is soft, strangled and cut off at the end, but so beautiful.

John’s movements grows bolder, and he starts placing kisses towards Sherlock’s Adams apple.

“John…” Sherlock says, his voice low and rumbling, John can feel the vibrations through his neck.

“Mmm..?” John answers, kisses never ceasing to fall on the pale skin.

“Do friends usually do this kind of thing?”


End file.
